One who walks in shadows
May be a shadow herself,
always watching, always waiting
for opportunities to prove her worth.
A heart wrapped in mystery,
calculating, wondering
amid the flashing lights of the arcade,
amid the pulsing beats of the rave hall
if she can too be connected
and be wanted, be known, in the world.


Someone wanted, someone known
That wishes to disappear;
A woman wanting to get by,
To do what she wanted,
Not what others wanted of her.
After all, she is angel to those who
Cannot stand up for themselves;
A grey angel, with wings that seem so strong,
yet she is still bound.
After all, in who does she confide
When her walls break down?


A searching angel, wanting to be known
Waiting for a series of chances, of circumstances;
But perhaps her own chances
And her own position
Has crossed over into another's life;
A voice to illustrations, words to mood -
This could be her chance,
to help as she has been helped;
A Voice, to the Art.


Love is more than just an illustration,
A series of sad girls in snow;
A girl and an artist mentor,
like a voice and a grey angel;
But what will become of her?
She is no shadow
And her wings are still fragile.
Someday she too may fly,
but when will she?

When will they?
Four girls, so similar,
their stories intertwined.
When will we see them fly?

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